Lost Moment
by Romanec
Summary: XFC drabble. Charles fears his shadows, but when given the chance to explain to Erik, he does not. Cannot. But Erik will be patient. Revenge requires patience.


_**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. Marvel does.**_

**A/N: **_Ohmygosh. :pops up for air, takes deep breath: School, why must you try to murder me? Bastard. :goes back under:_** Writer's Block buster for the "post anything you write" challenge. First night in the mansion.**

**Rating: T**

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><p><strong>Lost Moment<strong>

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><p>He waits for the sun like the flowers wait for the bees, to see the light wash across the land like a never-ending wave from the ocean, caressing the sand like a morning greeting for a lover. To feel the warmth of the bright yellow rays against his skin, warming what the night tried in bittersweet lullaby to chill. A penetrating sense of release he does not want but desperately needs - will beg for it before the hours pass to noon.<p>

When the shadows will disappear for a while.

"You are obnoxiously poetic when the world has gone quiet, Charles," a low voice rumbles from behind him, hot air of breath fanning across his neck, sliding upwards to brush against his ear. The voice is soft, almost lacking any emotion but snark, but he knows it well enough to hear the underlying exasperation in the dripping tenor notes.

"Am I broadcasting?" He questions back just as softly, but there is a subtle smile that spreads across his face that only increases its length when a snort is his only response. A small smile that hurts his lips, but he will offer nothing less. "My apologies, my friend. Though you are rather poetic yourself, you know."

"At three in the morning, who would not be?" An arm, scarred and strong and moltenly warm, tightens against his waist and pulls him close. "You may wait for the morning, Charles," Erik continues, true exasperation this time, "but it will not take kindly to your exhaustion. Will you not sleep?" A brush of chapped lips against his shoulder, and Charles shudders at both the sensation of the action and the echoes of memories the words brought forth. For a moment he contemplates...

_Do not lie to me._

"I have ... shadows here, Erik." Saying the words is like admitting to a sin, and he can almost taste the poisonous ink of them in his throat. "Large, dark shadows. I see them even when there is no light." He pauses. "Worse when my eyes are closed. Nightmares, not quite unlike your own. Ones that do not require sleep - push against it."

"_Poetic_." But the arm tightens more, bunching the satin of the sheets between their bodies. "Being here ... you have a past, Charles?" Erik's hands are almost as fractured as his mind as they go from gentle to knowing. "One that reminds you of things. You would like to leave." No longer a question.

"If I spent my life doing what I wanted to do, Erik, as opposed to what I must do, I'm afraid the world would be a very different place." Charles turns slightly, only slightly, so that his body is laying half one way and half the other. He can see into Erik's eyes, blue but not like his - the color of frozen, forgotten waters with no hope for being thawed into life. Waters that have seen death and bathed too many bloody bodies in ice. Erik looks down at him in equal scrutiny, symbolizing him, categorizing him - his lover is broken, but not shattered.

He watches as the metalkinetic slowly lifts his hands, studying them as if they have all the answers, but as if the answers are in a language foreign to him.

"You would be like me," he agrees, and there is no bitterness there. Just fact. The tip of his finger grazes over the sensitive skin of Charles' palm. "I could ... imagine that," he admits, and their eyes meet again. "Tell me?"

Charles' smile falters only a little as the shadows of dancing tree limbs in the moonlight from outside briefly flutter across Erik's face.

He wants to say it all. He wants his history to pour from his lips like a pot of scalding water. He wants to release his demons to the world and be extinguished by someone stronger than he is. Someone more ruthless, someone who has been able to taste the darkness yet remain unconsumed. Erik has held him every night, in ways he has no right to, has sworn promises and uttered curses and terrified and relieved Charles in every way. He wants to let it out, but-

_He can hear his mother's screams._

"Another time, perhaps," he answers instead, the words more like whispers on a nonexistent wind, carrying into a future he does not know is out there - hopes it out there. Soft little melodical chimes that make up the notes of his words, and he knows if he were on the receiving end of them even his mind would be hardpressed to form understanding instead of insult. But for some reason, Erik simply draws him closer, calloused skin brushing against his, and he is grateful. "When this is over ... I would like to tell you everything. My past, my life. I know you question my actions-," and here he allows himself to drift off, because insecurity has always been the constant companion to the strong will of his mind.

"I question your sanity," the older man agrees after a moment, but where the words should chill him instead there is warmth. He watches as Erik slowly presses his lips to each finger, soothing and seductive at once. Their eyes do not break contact. "But never you."

"And you will wait?" The telepath cannot keep the doubt from his voice, doubt that has no source and no meaning yet claims dominance over every aspect of his reality.

Again, Erik stares at him, observes him, brow crinkled and expression lacking any trace of condescending amusement or sarcasm. He looks at Charles the same way Charles fancies he looks at Erik, and the concern radiates from his friend in violent pulses. Concern, protectiveness, desire, _possessiveness_.

He answers with his body and not his words. Their movements sing the lyrics of poetry their mouths can no longer form, and shadows flutter across the floor in temporary submissiveness - a rug waiting to slip and send everything crashing down.

Charles drowns - as the screams drown, as the shadows drown - and forgets the morning.

**-X-  
><strong>

Dawn breaks, inching across darkened grass like the spotlight of a guard tower searching for escaped prisoners that have done no wrong. The birds are silent in ill reprieve, either hunting in or escaping from the intrusive rays. The colder season is coming, puffing taunting breaths of dreadful laughter against Time itself, and there will be no bees for the flowers today. There are no flowers anyway, all long wilted and shriveled dead on the ground.

Erik watches as the sun rises, face blank as the strands of light slowly start to creep forward, wanting in, not quite stopping to ask for permission. His hand drags lazily back and forth, fingernails scratching gently - _finely_ - against the pale skin of the smaller man tucked against him. The room reeks of sex, his body of heat, and his mind of warning threat. Sun is light, and light brings shadows. As if on cue, his lover nuzzles just a little closer.

Charles fears his shadows.

He will not say why. Whether it is fear that keeps his secrets silent, or a need to shelter him, Erik does not know. But he will be patient.

_Whenever you are ready, little mouse _hethinks silently _you will tell me._

Vengeance requires patience.

_And I will kill them all._

Eyes glint in a flash of atmospheric silver, long fingers abruptly, subtly move. The metal of the blinds snap shut, casting them both in shadowless darkness.

And Erik does not sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: **

_Anyone know any good fics where Charles tells Erik about his past? If not (hinthint**hint**hintplease**hint) **yeah. Anyway, sorry for the lack of writing. I have been getting slammed by school. But I'm pretty sure I've got a handle on my schedule now. More than likely I'm going to be posting little oneshots throughout the week and **FRIDAY. IamsofuckingexcitedforFriday. **_Friday I'll be updating all my chapter stories and (because I'm suicidal or something) posting 2 new stories I've been working on but haven't shared with you. :) In celebration of my new DVD. hehe.__

__I would like to take this moment to recommend the following fics. I have had **no **reading time whatsoever, and have missed numerous updates from these guys, but they are brilliant stories you need to check out. __"**That Which is Forbidden**" by Nehan Shinzui34 and "**Memory**" by YB Fan. _Two very brilliant WIPs that just ... erg, make me melt from their awesomeness. I actually rec every fic in my favorites, but especially these two right now. Go read them!_

_Anyway. Let me know what you thought? :)_


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